I never realized the anxiety involved in getting your childs report card. Now… imagine getting your childs report card in French. Thats what I found yesterday after school tucked into the little notebook her teacher uses to communicate with me (and, to a lesser degree, vice versa).
Since getting this report card Ive felt like crying… Ive felt like yelling… and Ive felt like telling all the well-meaning advice givers to keep it to themselves. Which wouldnt be fair, as I posted my initial anxiety on facebook and had to know that it would be followed by people doling out advice.
When I first read the report card, I was instantly convinced it said that Kaitlyn had not accomplished a majority of what a kindergartner here is expected to accomplish. And I thought the teachers comment said that Kaitlyn is destined to flop miserably in CP. (first grade).
Then I bothered to translate the comment. And I realized it said that Kaitlyn is improving and that the language barriers are sure to fall next year and shell be a successful CP student. Whew. Thank goodness for Google translate!
Still… I was nagged by all the categories in which Kaitlyns mark was basically in the process of learning instead of can do. So after dinner, I showed the report card to Bill. He got a big smile and said he thinks shes doing great.
Fine. So maybe Im wrong.
Im taking the report card to Kaitlyns private French teacher today. I want to get a French persons interpretation of it.
Her dancing and cooking acumen are examples of the inner Kaitlyn bursting out. Maybe the quantifiable things on the report card, once translated by the teacher, will seem to back up these new ambitions. We all do better at things for which we have a passion.